


Wrong Number

by Zephyrfox



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alec's dead, Don't copy to another site, James Bond/Q get together, M/M, Sad, before the fic starts, but also sweet, previous James Bond/Alec Trevelyan, sp00qy, texts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 19:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21002609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: Years before the young man who would become known as Q joined MI6, he bought a new mobile, and with it got a new number. Problem was, someone kept texting the number, sending texts meant for someone else.





	Wrong Number

_ Bzzz. Bzzzz. _

_I Miss you_

Andrew looked down at his brand new mobile when it vibrated. He didn’t recognize the number. Must be someone trying to contact whoever had the number before. He knew he should just text back they had the wrong number, but something made him pause. He gave his head a little shake. Why was he waiting? But then the mobile vibrated again.

_haven’t been able to sleep in our bed since you died. Maybe I should just sell this place_

_ Oh. _Andrew’s eyes widened, sympathy for the unknown person filling him. He put the mobile down, his heart going out to whoever was texting. Should he let them know they were texting him? Or should he just… let them believe their texts were going to an out-of-service number? The other person was obviously grieving. This was their way — maybe even their only way? — of coping with the loss of their, what? Husband? Wife? Partner?

His finger hovered over the reply key for a long moment before an odd impulse stopped him. Perhaps it would be better to let them believe their texts were going wherever the sender intended. He labeled the number ‘Loss’, and, mindful of invading the other’s privacy, left the texts unread.

* * *

Except he did read them. When his mobile vibrated the pattern he programmed for Loss, curiosity drove him to read what had been sent. Sometimes the texts brought tears to his eyes, and sometimes they made him laugh.

_Fucked up day. Wish you’d been there_

_Drank too much last night. Went past that street, reminded me of you_

_Boss not happy. Fuck her. Job’s done_

_Got shot today. Go ahead and laugh, didn’t duck fast enough_

Andrew suspected that Loss was a police officer or soldier. A lot of their texts involved shooting or being shot at. At least, even with the violence implied in the texts, they sounded… healthier? More chatty, and less depressed.

Maybe Loss was was coming to terms with their loss.

At least, he hoped so. It had been at least a month since he’d seen one of the texts.

* * *

“Very well, Mr Boothroyd,” M said, firmly closing the folder on the table in front of her. “You’re hired. Mr Tanner will take you to HR to begin your paperwork.”

“Thank you, M.” Andrew stood when she did and shook her hand. The head of MI6 had a surprisingly firm grip. Although, perhaps not so surprising — M’s intense personality made her seem larger than life, surprising him each time he met with her that she was so much shorter than he was.

Tanner was at his elbow as M left the conference room. “This way, please, Quartermaster.”

Andrew chuckled as he allowed Tanner to lead him to the hallway. “That will take a bit of getting used to.”

“Shouldn’t take too long,” Tanner flashed him a quick smile, guiding him towards the end of the hallway. “It’s the only thing people here will call you from now on. Or Q, that is.”

Andrew — Q — nodded. “I’m looking forward to working here. How long has the previous Quartermaster been retired?”

“A few months now. We’ve had interim Quartermasters running Technical Services Section. They’re all looking forward to your arrival.” Tanner came to a stop in front of the lift and pressed the button to summon it to the executive level of MI6.

Q huffed. “I doubt that. I look too young, and I’m an outsider. They don’t know me from Adam, they won’t trust me, and they’ll resent me.”

Tanner nodded, shrugging a shoulder at the same time. “Perhaps, but they won’t act on it. M runs a very tight ship. If she thinks you’ll do, you’ll do.”

“Well then, I’d best get started.” Q stepped forward into the lift as the doors opened. “To HR, please, Mr Tanner.”

* * *

His third day on the job, his job blew up. Rather spectacularly, really. But what mattered more to Q was that Loss started texting again. He only found out when he went home to change out of his smoky, dust-covered clothing. He had a new, official mobile he’d been issued for work, but he hadn’t been able to give up his link to Loss.

_Damn rookie shot me off a bridge. Laid low for a while. Wasn’t going to come back. Hell, maybe I thought I’d join you. But she needs me. I’m coming home._

The words chilled Q. Loss had been suicidal? He’d thought Loss had been getting better. At least Loss thought they were needed now, which meant they would be less likely to actively try to kill themselves. Maybe Loss would be texting more? Q hoped so. He felt oddly protective of his unknown correspondent.

In the meantime, of course, he had to rebuild his branch.

* * *

The mess with Silva and Skyfall kept Q distracted enough that he couldn’t check his mobile until he dragged himself home after it was all over. M was dead, and Bond was bringing her body home. Mallory would be the new M. That would take some getting used to. Calling anyone else M seemed… wrong, somehow.

He let himself into his flat and went to his mobile even before ridding himself of his shoes. His heart sank when he saw no new messages. Q chewed his lip as he contemplated sending a text of his own. Just to check. See if Loss was all right.

With a sigh, he made himself put the mobile down again. Loss would text or not. It wasn’t right for Q to interfere.

* * *

Life settled into routine after that. Bond came back, Mallory was slowly becoming M to all but the oldest holdouts, and Q kept busy with his job. And with Bond. They flirted a bit, and Q flattered himself that Bond might possibly, after a fashion, actually be interested in a man. Perhaps love was in the air — Loss had a new love interest as well.

_I met someone. I think you’d like him. I’m going to ask him for a date._

Q smiled at the mobile and put it back in its drawer. Bond — James — would be there soon to take him to dinner, and he needed to get ready. He mentally wished Loss luck on the dating front. Odd, even knowing that Loss was interested in a man, Q still wasn’t sure if Loss was a man or a woman. Not that it mattered, of course. Could even be someone nonbinary. 

* * *

Q’s date with Bond had gone well. One date had turned into several, and then into overnights spent at each other’s flats. He didn’t fool himself into thinking this was permanent, but… it seemed to be. 

He came out of the kitchen with their drinks for dinner. James sat on the couch holding a mobile, texting someone. Their takeaway was on the coffee table, just waiting to be eaten. The movie they would be watching was paused, waiting for one of them to start it.

Q set down the glasses, just as James hit send. In the silence that filled the flat, Q could hear the vibrating rattle of his old mobile, announcing a text from Loss.

James spun off the couch, one hand reaching towards the shoulder holster that wasn’t there, facing the desk where Q kept the mobile. “What the hell was that?” James demanded harshly, all his focus on the desk. He put a hand out to stop Q from moving. “Have you checked your flat recently? It could be a bomb.”

_ Oh. _Q relaxed a bit. Just a misunderstanding. “No, it’s just my old mobile. I keep it around because someone keeps texting the number, and I don’t have the heart to get rid of it.”

“Someone? Who?”

“I don’t know, really.” Q took the mobile out and glanced at the text.

_I think I love him. Still miss you._

“I started getting these texts when I got the mobile — I think the number must have belonged to someone who died. The person who texts — I call them Loss — they miss whoever it was. Probably thinks their texts are just… going nowhere. I couldn’t text back and tell them the truth.” Q offered the mobile to James, wondering why his face seemed so pinched-looking. “I shouldn’t let you read these. I feel it’s like invading their privacy, but if it will reassure you it’s harmless…”

James scrolled through the messages, his face turning to stone. 

Q noticed uneasily that James’ grip on the mobile was tightening, his knuckles turning white as the plastic began to creak. “James? Are you all right?”

“How long.” James’ voice was low, grating. He looked up to glare daggers of blue ice at Q. “How long were you going to play me like this?”

“What?” Q had no idea what James was talking about. “It’s just some random person, James, I don’t know —”

“Every text,” James snarled, waving the mobile at Q. “Every single text I’ve sent to Alec’s number has gone to _ your _mobile. Why?”

Q’s jaw dropped as he realized — incredible as it seemed — that James was Loss._ “You _were texting. You tell me.” James stared at him, but Q refused to back down. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been getting those texts.

Finally James spat out a series of numbers. “That’s the number to Alec’s mobile. I keep it —” he paused, gave his head a shake. “I keep it. I pay the bill. No one else has that number. So tell me, Quartermaster — why are you getting the texts?”

“That’s not my number. Maybe you… misdialed?” 

James stiffened, but slowly — so slowly — looked at his mobile. His thumb swiped, swiped again — and he sat, all the fight in him just… gone. “I don’t believe it,” he muttered softly. “I typed in the wrong number for Alec when I got this mobile.”

“I don’t think it really matters.” Q went to sit next to him and took both mobiles. With a little shrug he put them beside the cooling takeaway on the coffee table. He looked at James out of the corner of his eye, unwilling to face him just yet. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That you—” He turned his head a little more, checking to see if James understood. He didn’t want to say it if James hadn’t meant it. 

But James did understand. “Yes.”

“I love you, too.”

* * *

They’d been together since then. Officially a couple. Oh, James still had to do what was necessary when on a mission, but Q never minded. After all, it was _ him _that James came home to.

Q wrapped his coat around himself a little tighter. The early winter wind was bitingly chill. A few feet in front of him, James knelt next to a grave, talking quietly to the memory of his former lover, Alec Trevelyan. 

They were at the cemetery to, well, introduce him. Q’s lips curved into a smile. He knew Alec only from James’ texts and stories, but he thought he would have liked the man.

He rubbed at one eye. It was getting blurry, like there was a haze in it, obscuring his vision. Then he realized the haze was getting bigger, and it was next to the gravestone, not in his eye. He kept quiet as it resolved into the misty form of a man, and James didn’t seem to notice.

With a shock, Q realized that he recognized the man. He was sure it was James’ Alec, but Q knew him, too. Three years ago, just before Alec’s death, he knew now, the agent had come with M when she gave him his initial interview to become the Quartermaster of MI6. He hadn’t spoken to the agent escorting her, but he’d noticed the way Alec had noticed him, and had wondered — but then he’d never seen the man again, and had written it off as just wishful thinking.

The ghost smiled broadly at him, and Q couldn’t help but smile back. Had Alec been the one to influence James' mistyped mobile number? Had he influenced Q himself to keep from responding to the texts until the time was right? 

Q wished he could ask, but perhaps he didn’t need to. As he watched, Alec winked at him, then faded slowly from sight.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr - you can find me at leavesdancing.tumblr.com


End file.
